


Layers

by tattedmariposa



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Soen no Kiseki/Akatsuki no Megami | Fire Emblem Path of Radiance/Radiant Dawn
Genre: First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-03-01
Updated: 2008-03-01
Packaged: 2017-12-07 00:22:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/741926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tattedmariposa/pseuds/tattedmariposa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He wanted to see, wanted to watch those thick layers fall from his body, slowly and deliberately, wanted to be able to press those moments into his memory as clearly as possible.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Layers

Ike wished the lantern hadn't gone out, or that Soren hadn't wordlessly stopped him from relighting it with a hand slightly tugging on his arm. The moon was no help - it was raining lightly, and so his eyes strained to watch Soren through the murky blue darkness, even though they were only inches apart.

He wanted to see, wanted to watch those thick layers fall from his body, slowly and deliberately, wanted to be able to press those moments into his memory as clearly as possible. As if to make up for the lack of clear vision, Soren was giving him more than enough time to do so, to memorize the exact position of every line and plane. Fabric brushed against his skin as it fell to the floor.

His hands hesitated and stopped at the final layers, the light garments that usually remained hidden but for a few inches peeking out from underneath the hem of a sleeve. Soren's gaze lowered and his fingers uncertainly twisted at the cloth in his hands.

“Soren,” Ike tilted his head slightly, trying to make their eyes meet again. He rested his hands on Soren's waist in the hope that the loose embrace would reassure him. “Is something wrong?” 

Soren shook his head, and silently reached out and took Ike's hands into his own. His eyes shut and he placed them where his own rested a moment before.

He understood, and carefully removed the shirt, watching as Soren's hair fell back into place afterwards, the stubborn short strands in front framing his face, the masses of longer ones falling all over his shoulders and down his back.

Ike watched the invisible lines his fingers traced over Soren's body, wanting to remember with his hands as well. Fingers smaller and more tentative than his own mirrored his motions. They were slightly cold on his back, making him tense and sigh into Soren's hair.

They were nervous – Ike could feel it in the set of Soren's shoulders and his shallow breathing. He didn't need to analyze his own breathing patterns to know that he was nervous as well. The patterns on his back slowed and then stopped. 

He pressed their lips together. It felt better that way – it was exciting but familiar; something they'd done before, not something to be nervous about. Inexplicably, their bare skin touching was both more and less noticeable while they kissed. He found himself holding Soren tightly and pulling him closer, felt Soren kissing back harder, moving with desperation and sloppiness that they'd never shared. 

One of them (Ike wasn't sure who had the idea first, but the result was the same regardless) forced their collective weight in the direction of the bed, the slow shyness of minutes before replaced with urgency, with tangled cool sheets and hot quick breaths panted against his shoulder and some of Soren's hair somehow winding up in his mouth, and the need to be as close as they possibly could, right that instant or even sooner.

It was all too much, and Ike pulled back a little against his body's will, his reeling mind telling him that he didn't want this to be over before it even started. He thought Soren could feel it too, in the way his half-lidded eyes glittered and watched him expectantly.

He sat back, looking over Soren, his hair coming loose and strewn everywhere, starkly contrasted against his light skin and the bedsheets; pale cheeks flushed and lips swollen and sticky from kissing, even in the dark. His eyes shut and he crossed his arms. Ike wondered if he was cold or just self-conscious. He wrapped a hand around each of Soren's wrists, whose eyes opened and met him with an inquisitive glance.

“I want to see you,” he explained. 

Soren seemed to accept this and allowed his hands to be guided back to his sides. They were slender as he knew they would be and fit within his grasp with room to spare; bones that were protected by nothing but a thin taut layer of skin stubbornly pushing into his own flesh. 

He was somewhat relieved he wasn't met with resistance. He wondered if they'd break in his hands, if Soren tried to jerk away.

Ike couldn't help but turn that thought over in his mind, even though he knew it was completely wrong to think of Soren that way; as something that he could break by accident. Because, in reality, he wasn't fragile, Ike reminded himself, but quite the opposite; probably more so than anybody - including Soren himself – fully realized. 

He reached out to trace the exposed remains of a slightly jagged scar, cutting a thin, angry line across Soren's shoulder, evidence of just how capable he was at taking care of himself. He remembered the way his stomach flipped when he saw a flash of steel find its target out of the corner of his eye – and the way Soren didn't even miss a word of his incantation, holding up his tome with one hand while he forced the wound shut with the other.

There was nothing delicate about the way Soren fought, nothing weak about his abilities. Ike knew better than anyone how diligently Soren studied, the extent of his intelligence, and the strength of his will.

Yet his fingertips found another scar a few inches below Soren's neck, significantly older than the last. This one, which Ike knew was hidden by his collar and faded to near-invisibility in the daylight, dated from long before they became friends - a reminder of things Soren preferred not to speak. He could still feel the way its slippery texture differed from the skin around it, the stubborn flesh that refused to move as flexibly as the rest.

Ike smiled into Soren's questioning eyes, draping his body back over him and finding his lips again. Soren's body felt so small underneath his own. The sensation didn't equate with the strength of the sharp fingers insistently digging into his back, and he thought briefly about how he loved both feelings at once, before any thought at all was nearly lost to him once more.


End file.
